After all this time?
by 222RunOnSentences
Summary: The fantasy in my head that I finally had to make an account for. I cannot promise a regular update schedule. This, in an attempt at self-therapy, is going to be unapologetically M and femslash. Set directly after the Hogwarts battle. Constructive criticism much appreciated. Enjoy yourselves, loves.


Minerva McGonagall closed her eyes and sighed deeply. So it was over. It was finally over. And all she felt was emptiness and exhaustion. She figured it would just take a while before the realisation set in. This day, she thought dryly to herself, would surely go down in history as "the battle of Hogwarts" or something equally bland. Hogwarts, or what was left of it, was falling silent around her. She had left the Great Hall and retreated to her chambers some 30 minutes ago, relieved that her little refuge had stayed intact. As she was leaning back in her large armchair, an urgent tapping on the window next to her made her jump. She took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. When had she become this easily startled? "Jumpy, are we? War will do that to people when they get old", a nasty little voice offered. "Oh bugger off, Phineas, noone asked your opinion", she snapped, turning halfway towards the painting near the mantelpiece. The sly ex-headmaster was leaning against the frame, grinning. "You know, I believe the thing you are oh so afraid of, Min, is in fact rather innocuous-" the painted man glanced over to the window. "Yes, I am indeed quite sure it's an owl, desperate to be let in. Why don't we indulge it?" Without so much as another word, Minerva pointed her wand at the picture frame, which obediently hopped off the wall and promptly reattached itself to it, right side now facing the naked stone. She could hear the paining's faint protests but ignored them as she moved to open the window to a rather stately and very ruffled looking barn owl, which promptly hooted accusingly and landed on her shoulder. She had never seen the animal before, but thought nothing of it. It might be part of the ministry's flock. As she untied the letter attached to the bird's leg, she mused about how long it must have been trying to reach her. Surely, there would have been now way for any owl to safely reach Hogwarts for at least the duration of the battle - even though it looked like this one had tried more than once. The acting headmistress smoothed over the large bird's feathers with one hand and turned around the letter. She nearly dropped it when she recognised the seal. Two wands, crossed, with three sparks coming from each of them. Beauxbatons Academy. No. It couldn't be. After all these years? After the disappointment of receiving no word whatsoever when there would have been a prime opportunity a mere three years ago- the witch paused at the fire crackling away in her office and briefly considered tossing the envelope inside. "No", she thought to herself. "I have no confirmation that this is even from her. It might be about Hogwarts, about the war." She sat back down in her old armchair and under the sharp glance of the owl, which had fluttered to sit behind her on the chair, she broke the wax seal. Inside was a single piece of paper with a hastily scribbled note.

M.,

I heard. It's all coming to an end. I am on my way, and I will be travelling to Hogwarts  
as fast as I possibly can to participate in the battle.  
Don't you dare die on me, you bloody stubborn witch.

A.

Minerva closed her eyes as a wave of conflicting emotions hit her. Confusion. Fear. Anger. An inappropriate amount of excitement she would love to scold herself for. "Why now? Of all the times... why now?" Instead, she forced herself to focus. No, she had not been in the battle. And neither had she been among the dead. That all too familiar mass of auburn hair would have caught her eye anywhere. Or would it? Restlessly, she got up and decided that now was probably the time to pour herself that scotch she had considered earlier. She walked over to her antique buffet and even managed to find some owl crackers. The barn owl immediately settled on her shoulder again to devour the treats. Just as she pulled the stopper from the flask, there was an urgent knock on the door. Minerva froze. Students, surely. It had to be. Maybe Mr. Potter or someone else from her house. Unless... she swallowed hard before calling: "Come in!". The door swung open almost soundlessly. Heeled boots stepped on thick carpet. The headmistress dared not to turn around. There was a short pause that seemed to last an eternity. "I see you've taken care of my bird, Minerva", the visitor said. "Thank you."  
Minerva's stomach flipped. She suppressed a curse and, slightly weak in the knees, turned around to face the woman who had just entered her room. She had not changed in the slightest. Maybe apart from her face being a sight bit more weathered. A heart-shaped face wearing a familiar stern expression. A calculating stare from deep brown eyes. An unbelievable amount of long auburn hair. Even her clothes had not changed significantly. The royal blue travelling cloak draped over the witch's arm was the same one she had worn the night after their graduation all those years ago. Anne.


End file.
